


desperate measures (gonna make a heartthrob out of me)

by Applebeejuice



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: (aka i had a copy of the script and went wild), Alternate Universe - Michael Has a Squip, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Codependency, Cool Michael, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Inspired by Music, Jealous Michael, M/M, Michael-centric, Morally Ambiguous Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Projecting, Ridiculously Slow Burn, Scripture References, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, boyf riends - Freeform, but not really, honestly this is my guilty pleasure, i crave death, like michael, no you guys don't understand, really slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2019-10-11 12:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17447312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Applebeejuice/pseuds/Applebeejuice
Summary: “Get out of my way, loser” Jeremy snarls, stunning Michael. Never in all 12 years of crazy and wild friendship has Jeremy ever sounded that...malicious before; especially not towards him of all people. Jeremy walks forward, and Michael moved to the side, but not enough to avoid the almost purposeful push of his shoulder against him that seemingly seeked to hurt him.It started a cycle, a spiral rather, the barbed words ripping through him.He never would have known that we would turn to the very thing that he was trying to protect him from. A SQUIP.(In other words: Squipped!Michael and some Q̶u̶a̶l̶i̶t̶y̶ angst.)





	1. Intro- Alone

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic on this account, so y'all have to tell me what y'all think. Criticism is greatly appreciated (and encouraged) so please leave a comment w/ any and all critisism! 
> 
> (This is the Intro, the SQUIP /should/ make an entrance near chapter three. Just a heads up.)

After the whole...fiasco with Chloe, Jeremy ran into a bathroom, looking for a place to hide for a while and collect his thoughts. He locks the door, and takes several deep breaths, finally walking over to sit down on the edge of the tub. He made a promise to go back out soon, after all, it would be uncool to just loiter in a bathroom all party. He thought made him cringe.

Without him noticing, a gnarled green monster’s hand reaches up to grab him, startling Jeremy, who screamed. The hand pulls itself up, or did something like that. It took all of Jeremy’s might not to whirl away and flee, however, a voice interrupted his monologue.

“Sup.” they said, and Jeremy turned around. It was...Michael? 

“ I didn’t know you were invited to this party.” Jeremy said, getting straight to the point. Why was Michael even here? He didn’t even like parties. 

Michael sighed. “I wasn’t. Which is why I’m wearing…this clever disguise!” He grins at his friend, hoping for at least a polite grin at his antics. Instead, he was met with a blank stare. He continues. “You’re speechless. Squip got your tongue?” The way he said it was off, like he expected something, but was taunting him nonetheless.

“It’s…off. “ Jeremy replies. He was not expecting the surprise of it to dance across Michael’s eyes though. He cleared his throat.

“That would explain why you’re talking to me.” An awkward silence follows, but Michael continues. “I’ve been thinking about this moment. What I would say to you? I had this really pissed off monologue, an epic journey through twelve years of friendship…” Michael drifts off, before noticing a weird expression on Jeremy’s face.

“I-It’s really good to see you, man.” Jeremy said with a smile.

“It won’t be. Once you hear what I found out.” He seems sad, but resolute in what he has to say.

Jeremy huffed. Really? Not even Michael will let him be happy? “Found out?” 

“About…” He reaches up and taps the side of his head. Jeremy looks confused for a second, but his eyes then widened in realization. The SQUIP, of course.

“How? There’s nothing on the internet—”   
Michael cuts him off before he can finish. “Which is weird, right? I mean, what’s not on the internet? So I starting asking around. Finally, this guy I play Warcraft with... Told me how his brother went from a straight D student to a freshman at Harvard. You know where he is now?” His eyes look frantic, begging for him to get this.

Jeremy scoffed. “Really happy and successful?” Michael was probably jealous.

Michael clears his throat. “He’s in a mental hospital. Totally lost it.” He says this quietly, making it seem somewhat taboo. Like he shouldn’t be hearing this.

“I don’t see what that has to do with…” He goes quiet.

Michael’s eye twitches. “Think, man! We’re talking an insanely powerful supercomputer. You really think its primary function is to get you laid? Who made them? How did they end up in a high school? In New Jersey? Of all possible applications for such a mind blowingly advanced technology, you ever wonder what it’s doing inside you?”

The silence that followed was deafening, but for different reasons to each of them. Jeremy laughed quietly. “And I thought Chloe was jealous…”

“I’m honestly asking!” He cried. 

“Really?” Jeremy countered “Because I think you’re pissed I have one and you don’t!” 

“Come on—” Michael tried to get an edge in, Jeremy is sounding like a four year old!

“ Maybe I got lucky, is that so weird? With my history, I’d say the universe owed me one. And I don’t know about your friend’s brother’s whatever, but if you’re telling me his squip made him crazy—”

That’s it. Michael is cutting him off again. This is of utmost importance, just let him finish. “His squip didn’t make him crazy!”

“Oh. Well…” Jeremy guessed he was convincing enough. “There you go.” He said it so simply, like he just disregarded absolutely everything Michael just said.

Michael wanted to scream in frustration. Just listen to him, dammit! “He went crazy trying to get it out!” Michael snapped. Why wouldn’t Jeremy just understand?

As soon as Michael raised his voice, he regretted it, but Jeremy needed to listen to him. This is greater than some high school popularity- this, this SQUIP would impact him for the rest of his life if he didn’t quit right now. Or, at least soon. Maybe sneaking into a party uninvited was not the best strategy, but what else could he do? Jeremy was letting this tic tac-asshole ruin his life one thing at a time. He looks at Jeremy in the eyes.

“Then I’ve got nothing to worry about. Why would I want that?” Jeremy scoffed. The thing made him cool for once in his life, he’s succeeding. Or, that’s what the SQUIP wants him to believe, anyway. Jeremy rolled his eyes. “Move it.”

“Or you’ll what?” Michael said, locking eyes with Jeremy, with an aura of (falsified) confidence. His tone seemed to say “bring me your worst” without having to vocally give the taunt himself. Truly though, he was terrified, terrified of being pushed aside, of being a bigger jerk, of being more...like a SQUIP, even though he has no experience in that field.

“Get out of my way, loser” Jeremy snarls, stunning Michael. Never in all 12 years of crazy and wild friendship has Jeremy ever sounded that...malicious before; especially not towards him of all people. Jeremy walks forward, and Michael moved to the side, but not enough to avoid the almost purposeful push of his shoulder against him that seemingly seeked to hurt him. 

The sharp slam of the door snaps Michael out of his stupor. Jeremy abandoned him, and all’s he did was try to help. He walks over to the sink. This can’t be happening. It can’t be. His one and only friend just pushed him aside like some, like some piece of trash. Like if he ever saw Michael again it would be too soon. His knuckles clench around the porcelain, turning white from the force Michael is using. He looks up at the mirror, glasses askew as tears to quietly slip down his face.

A loud knock jars him from his thoughts and a voice rang through the almost empty bathroom. “Hello? Others have to pee!” They called. Michael can hear the agitation their voice was laced with. The last thing he wants to be known as is the nerd (‘cause let’s face it, who other than him knows the difference between ‘geek’ and ‘nerd’) who crashes a party to only end up crying alone in a bathroom. He quickly tries to make up something believable. 

“I'm on my period” was the first excuse that came to mind, and without thinking, he says it. Luckily, when his voice cracked in the middle, he must have sold it (or became so pathetic she didn’t even want to see him). He didn’t even get to hear the voice’s complete reply before the tears began to fall harder and his glasses fog up. 

Not even bothering to hold himself up, he slides down the wall. He tries the “count to four” trick his moms taught him, but it only results in more loss of breath rather than actually helping him. Michael knows he looks like a mess, tears streaming down his cheeks, snot bubbles, the whole nine. He curls into a ball. The sobs rip through him now, and he lets them. Who care for him anyway? The one person who did just left him. He gasps for breath, and wraps his arms around himself, rocking and wills his head to stop swimming and stop hiccuping. “Not here. Anywhere but here” he thinks to himself. It doesn’t work though, and he sobbed harder, the pain in his chest growing with every heave. He’s too caught up in his own despair to notice the voices- the screaming- just outside the thin walls. 

He assumes it’s the snot and sobs that is making it difficult to breathe, which is true, but the thick dark smoke streaming through the cracks in the door is also contributing to it. Wait, what? 

Michaels blurry eyes glance up at the smoke covered ceiling, and jumps to his feet, stumbling to the door. He reached a trembling hand out to grasp the handle, but the red hot metal scalded his hand, and he jumped back. Shit. Not only did his only friend leave him, but he also has to die in a fucking house fire covered in tears. He didn’t want to die! He has to make sure J-  
Michael falters. After that, did Jeremy even want him around anymore? Michael had one chance, and it ended with Jeremy treating him like he was a piece of gum on his shoe. The tears came back, but Michael’s mind was already spiraled past that. If the only person who cared about him left, why should he want to live anyways? He always gets teased in school, but at least he had a buddy. Now he doesn’t know what to do. His moms are barely home either. The only person who would notice was probably his dealer, and they only cared about his money. Michael sniffles. “I g-guess dying won’t be so bad, huh?” he croaks to himself, heat growing by the second. He looks in the mirror one more time, and closes his eyes, reflecting on all of the good things he had done with Jeremy until he couldn’t take the heat any longer. And with that, Michael passed out with a teary smile on his face.


	2. DisCarded

Bright white light flooded Michael’s vision; not the most pleasant way to wake up. He goes to sit up, but a sharp pain that stabbed his head keeps him in his current position. He lets out a slight groan of pain. Great. 

He goes to look around, moving his head as minimally as possible to avoid repetition of that incident. The bright white room was painful to his freshly woken eyes, but he squinted through it. He appeared to be in a curtained-off section of a hospital room, the lemony scent confirming his suspicions. Michael sighs, and takes note of the rest of his injuries, starting with the dull ache in his chest and spreading out to the burns on his arms, legs, and neck, finally coming to his massive headache and what felt like his nose getting stabbed every time he breathed.

He guesses his waking alerted someone, and soon a nurse walks by and informs him that he was out for two days, as well as tending to surface injuries. He was having none of it. “W-when can I go?” Michael asks in a hoarse voice. Damn. Even talking was painful. 

The nurse offers a consoling smile and says he can leave soon,careful not to give an exact time. “We still have to make sure you can breathe okay, but otherwise you should be healing nicely.” The words offer little condolence, but he nods in thanks anyway. Before she left to tend to another patient, she turned to him and said, “What we found of your possessions are in that little box to your left. We had to remove some of it, otherwise it could have burned you more than you already are. When you’re ready, you should take a look.” And with that, she parted, leaving Michael alone once more. He spent a few moments looking up at the ceiling before deciding that he needed to know what was in that box.

He tried to lean over, and after a few agonizing moments, he was able to hoist the box onto his lap. He peers down into the contents, seeing his wallet, phone, and glasses, as well as a burnt shirt wrapped around...something. He slides the glasses on, exhaling in relief at the clear vision (and lack of cracks). He looks down yet again, and pockets the rest before reaching in for the shirt. He sets the cloth bundle on his lap before gently tossing the box to the floor beside him. The soft cloth felt nice against his hands, even though it was singed. He carefully unwrapped the shirt from whatever was in the middle, and soon he saw a glint of pink and focused on that. 

He lifts it up to the light slowly, careful not to break it or hurt himself in the process. The melted red and pink faces of Blinky and Pinky stare back at him, hanging off of the charred brown braid of the bracelet. Michael suddenly feels like he’d been punched. It was the friendship bracelet Jeremy and him made over five years ago. He remembered in fondness over who got to have Pac-Man, both willing to do anything for it before deciding that if it cause this much tension that neither of them should get it. Jeremy has Inky and Clyde, or used to, until he took the bracelet off since it was “uncool”. 

He rubs the plastic with his thumb. He can’t remember the last time he’d taken it off other than bathing. The sight of the singed thread that was barely holding together weighed down by two almost unrecognizable hunks of plastic made Michael want to cry. The last thing he knew Jeremy and him shared was gone, just like their old friendship. The pressure grew behind Michael's eyes, but he refused to cry. He’s not going to give them- whoever they are- the satisfaction. Not again, at least.

He tries to focus on something else, and his ears linger on the sound of people talking behind the curtain beside him. He can’t make out the exact words, but they sound happy. Michael let out a quiet sigh. What he wouldn’t give to have someone like that, who cared, and would stick with him through it all. (Or, have them back.) Damn it, Michael couldn’t even snoop without feeling like shit. The sound of footsteps drawing closer brought him out of his thoughts.

The nurse rounded the corner around 5 hours later, and Michael, bored out of his mind, followed her with his eyes as she approached him. She gave him a note, presumably a prescription.

“If you want to leave now, you can. I just checked to see any anomalies but there didn't seem to be any for the past 24 hours, so you’re good. I wouldn’t recommend it, but-” Michael swung his legs over the side of his bed and stood up, immediately regretting it due to the headrush and the pressure growing in his head and chest. He sets a hand on the bed to steady himself. “Here’s your slip for painkillers. If you continue to move like that, you’ll need them.” She said that jokingly, but it seemed to just make her more tense when Michael didn’t laugh.

A quiet “thank you” left his lips, on his way to change into the sooty clothing he was wearing before he was moved into the hospital. He pushed aside the memories that tried to surface as best he could. 

Once changed, he inhaled a deep breath of crisp, sterile air, and prepares himself for the walk home. (Since he left his car at his house when he walked to Jake’s, which was only about a half a block away.) The hospital was around an hour’s walk away from his house, but he has to walk across the street or makes some turns to get to it. 

He finds himself moving forward, past the curtain that divided the two beds. He glances over to see Rich, surrounded by colorful cards full of ‘get well soons’ and ‘we miss you’s talking with what looks like a girl from their grade.

That didn’t sting though. 

The worst part was the bright yellow card on top with the messy signature of Jeremy Heere right on the front, almost as if taunting him. He swallows thickly and proceeds to walk out of there quickly, not wanting to accidentally cause a scene. 

Michael knew he could be an asshole sometimes; everyone was, but was it really that bad as to warrant not getting a card from from Jeremy? From anyone? Did that few people truly care about him? Would it matter to anyone if he just...disappeared? Hell, no one did when he was at the party. 

As his thoughts spiralled downwards, he lost track of where he was, and soon, he found himself in a parking lot of the mall. Michael guessed he took a wrong turn somewhere. 

Oh well. Might as well try and pick out some new clothes since he’s here. He doesn’t get out enough as it is, might as well not waste a trip.

Hands tucked firmly in his pockets, he walks forward, keeping his eyes down. He just needs to find a Spencers or something to get a new shirt. Maybe he’ll stop by Payless and get some new shoes too. His converse are looking pretty beat.

Wait. Pause. Rewind.

That’s the same store where Jeremy got his SQUIP.  
Michael slowed, and cast a glance at the bright sign. He wondered what it was like to have a SQUIP. Was it like a friend? Or a father figure? He pondered this as he unconsciously wandered into the store. He could use either, he wasn’t picky.

It was the last thing he wanted but the sheer amount of questions and crippling curiosity made him contemplate the issue, maybe it wasn’t so bad? Why should he trust what some guy says online instead of his friend. Maybe he was just dragging Jeremy down after all. If only he stopped doing that, maybe Jeremy would be friends with him again, if only he was popular, then he would care.

It was an impulse decision, his mind was clouded with hopes of getting taken back, becoming better. When he saw that recognizable face in the back stocking shoes, he looked up and strode over towards them, resolve hardening with each step. If he didn’t like how it ended out, or it made him into a person he hated, he would go through with the...original plan.

The man (if you would call him that) recognized him, judging from the look in his eyes. They cleared their throat and smirked, “Back to get one too?” They reach for a box, not waiting for a response. “I got the latest batch. Something about a ‘new model’ or whatever. It’s 500 now. ”

Michael quirked an eyebrow, but pulled out the wad of cash he’d been saving since he was young and handed it over before he could think too much about it. He promised himself that it would not go to drugs, not to waste it. Old him wanted to spend it on something extravagant, like concert tickets. He laughed quietly. Wonder what old him would think of him now, pinning over some boy and turning to a pill that makes you act weird. 

Soon enough, the grey pill was sitting in his hand, the smoothness of the pill in stark contrast to the roughness of his palms. He stares at the pill. This was it, no turning back. The guy nods at him, and hands him a bottle of Mountain Dew. “...On the house. Looks like you need it.” Michael didn’t know whether to be offended or not, but he unscrews the cap nonetheless. He wanders off into a semi-secluded location to hopefully not draw too much attention to himself.

After a moment of deliberation, he downs the pill, following with a swig of the neon green drink in his hand. He closes his eyes, bracing himself for whatever comes next, crossing his fingers that he would like who he would become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ily'all. Please leave any more criticism you might have! A super cool person left some and now (hopefully) the readability was better. Comments and kudos are my lifeline, so please! validate! me!


	3. Newer, Cooler, Version of Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im back! and to those who specifically asked in the comments for a nice squip--i did what i could. (this is the re-written version, lmao)
> 
> i dont write often, but your comments are still appreciated! I love you all!

The installation wasn’t as painful as Jeremy made it seem.

Don’t get him wrong, it was still excruciating, just less of “getting pulled apart at the seams” and more “brain freeze times ten”. Michael smiled at the thought, 'course Jeremy had to be a drama queen about it. He never did handle pain well, come to think of it.

 Suddenly, the pain stopped.

A computerized voice rang through his head.

_“Accessing: neural memory.  Accessing: muscle memory. Access procedure: complete.  Michael Mell!”_

A young man appears, wearing clothes that were… oddly familiar.

_‘Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor.... Your SQUIP. ‘_

Michael’s eyes widened. Holy shit! It actually worked! Before Michael could input anything though, the SQUIP continued.

_“I am modeled to look like a character you like, associated with, or something you identify with. That is why I am in this form.”_ The SQUIP gestures down at his body to prove his point. _“The form I have deemed least upsetting is Jared Kleinman. That program is my default mode. You can also set me for various other icons, but this one should be most effective.”_

“Woah. That’s rad!” Michael says in awe.

_“I suggest you try to communicate with me in your head to eliminate the possibility of weird looks_ ” They replied, almost as if they knew what he was going to do before he did it.

‘ _Like this?’_ Michael tried, scrunching up his face and going red in effort. The SQUIP sighed.

“ _There is no need for that expression, but yes, it is working. Just think normally and I’ll be able to here. Right next to your thoughts about Heere.”_ They joked, and Michael’s eyes widened, How did they know about his...thing for Jeremy?

_“I scanned through your memories. Simple.”_ The reply shocked him. He guessed he only needed to think normally after all. “ _I assume you want Jeremy back? As your goal?”_

Michael faltered. He wanted nothing more than to have them back. He craved to scream the ‘yes’ at the tip of his tongue, but he would by lying to himself. He just wanted people to care, and not have to rely on one person for your wellbeing. He longed to call Jeremy his boyfriend, but first? He really needed a good friend who wouldn’t abandon him; his pinning can come later. Can it though? Michael finally has the thing he needed, now is his chance! Does he really want to go back to the person who caused him this much emotional turmoil?

_“Understood. You don’t know yourself.”_ The SQUIP looked at him with glowing eyes filled with...pity? Sympathy, perhaps? “ _We need to get you some clothes while we are here. Your aesthetic is good, the application just needs work. Because you want friends, we want you to be- well- you, and the possible woo-ing of a boyfriend adheres to that as well. Essentially, we’re just giving you a fresh coat of paint. It that going to be a problem?”_

Michael shook his head. They are the expert, after all. He looks around the store. Since they were there, he might as well get some shoes.

“ _Good idea. The worn soles could impact how comfortable you are or possibly even the way you walk. Since you don’t like many decisions, I recommend a pair of athletic shoes in a solid color, good for everyday usage.”_

He glances at a pair of black converse. Those look nice. He grabs the box in his size and walks to the checkout.

The SQUIP was surprised on how well Michael was cooperating. His data shows that he can be stubborn, and that their two personalities should clash often. Maybe he was one of the people that the SQUIPs were truly designed for, learning rather than a crutch. The checkout moves fast, and the card transaction went through seamlessly. Michael’s moms left him  a card for clothes and food, so this wouldn’t be going against anything.

He exits the store, and the SQUIP pipes up not even 30 seconds later with a _“Change now. You have a high likelihood of running into someone you know.”_

He grumbles a little about how “the shoes aren’t even that different”, but does so anyway. He tosses his old ones into a near trashcan. The soles were coming up, and the fabric was almost worn through in some places. It kind of surprised Michael on how beat up they were compared to the newer ones.

“ _Go into that one”_ The SQUIP says, pointing to a nearby store. Michael wandered in, not paying attention to the actual name. _“Pick out a new shirt. The one you’re wearing smells like soot, and makes you look unpresentable.”_

Michael winced at the direct language, but does so anyways. He picks up a nearby shirt, a Gameboy emblazoned on the front. It looks pretty cool, after all. “ _Look okay?_ ” he asks.

SQUIP rolled their eyes. “ _Not by itself, grab that jacket over there and buy that too; your current one isn’t doing anything for you. Paired with some skinny jeans, you can maybe pull off a “cool geek” look.”_

He paused. What’s wrong with his hoodie? He grabs some jeans and the shirt, but starts to walk away from the jacket. Why get another when he already has a comfortable, customized one that fits? A light buzzing fills his ears, making it difficult to focus.

“ _I don’t want to shock you Michael, but I would recommend you do as I say. You did get me for a reason, did you not? Besides, I’m not saying you can’t wear it ever again, I’m just expanding your wardrobe. Sometimes a good outfit is the key to good confidence. ”_ They chided him in a tone that seemed almost motherly. That made Michael smile to himself; someone cared. Just not the person he wanted to.

_“I thought you were supposed to be an asshole? Or, at least, less likable?”_ Michael thought, the words of his Warcraft friend replaying behind his lids.

“ _I am a...newer model, to say the least. The last model used methods that were deemed less effective and resulted in negative side effects.”_ They looked down, shifting their weight around, almost as if embarrassed about their origin. _“Anyway, just grab the jacket, and we can go home after. Unless you want to go to Spencers or the Food Court first. It is a long walk, after all.”_

Michael nodded, noting the subject change. He checked out, and changed in a nearby bathroom. He swapped jackets, putting his old one into the bag. He stepped out of the stall,  pausing to look in the mirror. He looked...nice. He never was one for body confidence, but seeing his style in a newer, _cooler_ way was certainly a boost up. The proud smile of the SQUIP floating behind him seemed to agree, but they furrowed their eyes before putting in : _“Your facial shape is pleasing, why do you cover up with glasses?”_

Michael choked. “ _I-uh. What?”_ he thought, glowing red.

“ _I’m saying you should try contacts, as your facial structure is labeled as desirable by many people of the same age as you. Otherwise known as ‘attractive’ in simpler terms._ ” They roll their eyes, like that was common information.

Michael blinked, too shocked to form a coherent response. Luckily, he doesn’t need to. The SQUIP speaks up yet again.

“ _I could provide a sort of alternative. It acts like contacts, only it’s a hologram sort of deal. Unless you’re not comfortable.”_ He says, aware of Michael’s hate of contacts, or the “plastic pain disks” as he likes to call them mentally.

_“You can fix my eyes?_ ” Michael asks, visibly ecstatic.

“ _Temporarily_ .” The SQUIP corrected, “ _but yes. It may be weird or even painful at first though.”_

Michael’s eyes lit up. He broke his glasses so often, that it would be a sound investment. _“Do it.”_ He said, confident. The SQUIP disappeared, and then his eyes suddenly felt like a cold, heavy weight was on them, so icy it seemed almost as painful as a burn. Suddenly, the pain disappears, and his vision is..blurry? The SQIP was supposed to fix it!

The SQUIP clears their throat. “ _Glasses_.”

Michael quickly takes them off, and is greeted clear, unassisted (well, at least by glasses) vision. He needs to tell Jerem- he falters. Right. Jeremy wouldn’t care. He sighed, happy mood ruined. He combs his fingers through his hair to try and fix it as best he could and leaves the bathroom.


	4. Pinkberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinkberry!!!!

 

“ _ You need to stop thinking of him, your thoughts of him are making you sad, not the best friend-making trait. Even if you were to prioritize him, we still need to make you friends. _ ” They attempted a joke, but the flat tone made it more depressing than humorous. Michael sighed. He knew. Hell, he’d been telling that to himself since Jeremy even took the SQUIP.

He found himself wandering around, meandering towards the food court to pick up a drink for his walk home. Not that it was too long, but still. He continues to walk, mind blank, not really thinking of anything; but rather just absorbing his surroundings and taking in what had happened.  His hand occasionally reaches up to brush the bridge of his nose, unused to having the familiar weight disappear. 

He wanders around, past all sorts of restaurants, none particularly calling out to him. He slows before a Pinkberry, the bright luminescent lights calling him in. He shrugs to himself, he likes 7-11, right? Cold and sweet. This should fit the bill. He pays, and goes to the cups and begins to fill with various flavors. He went with his standard cherry, but decided to mix it with a raspberry to change things up a little. Unbeknownst to him, two girls were watching him go about his self-serving, whispering. 

“Is that that weird kid that used to hang around with Jeremy?” One whispered quickly to the other girl. She swallowed her bite while turning slightly to look at Michael before nodding in agreement. 

“Why did you think Jeremy ditched him?” The other shrugged, fiddling with the long yellow sleeves of her cardigan. She continues, oblivious to their lack of caring. “Do you think he’s a jerk? Or maybe he just smells bad? Or-” she prattles on quietly.

The electronic voice that pipes up distracts Michael from his inner turmoil. Is that the right word? Michael felt like he had been filled with water, and the ebb and flow of which is causing this feeling. Not necessarily bad- just constantly moving. Fluctuating, if you will. “ _ Those to girls are talking about you _ ”

Michael stills. ‘ _ What! _ ’ he hisses mentally. The SQUIP tuts. “ _ No need to try and lower an internal voice, but yes. They are. Now, do what I say, and we can jumpstart your progress” _ . Michael gives a slight nod, and turns his full attention to the SQUIP, taking minor notes. 

“ _ Walk over to them, but glance around at the other tables. They’re full, just so you know.”  _ Michael feels his nervousness spike. He can’t do that! That goes completely against his survival skills! Nonetheless, he slowly drags one foot in front of the other and walks towards the pair of girls, eyes pretending to survey the surrounding tables, knowing exactly what was going to happen.  _ “Now say a greeting, and ask to sit with them.” _

Alarm bells were going off in his head, but that didn’t stop him from doing as it said. “Uh- Sup. All the other tables are full. Do you if I sit with you?” They look like they were caught in a snare, or at least the brunette did.  _ “Chloe” _ the SQUIP supplied. 

“Why would we let you sit with us?” Chloe snapped. He turns to the SQUIP for guidance, super out of his element. 

“ _ Shrug your shoulders at repeat after me. I would say look sheepish, but you have that look down”.  _ The SQUIP pauses, preparing the words mentally for half a second before feeding Michael the line “ _ I don’t know. You and Brooke were the only two people I recognised here. I don’t come here too often.” _

Michael repeats the words obediently, nodding his head and smiling at Brook when her name was mentioned. It would be rude not to notice her, after all. He would have liked to when he was with Jeremy, at least. “ _ Good choice. _ ” the SQUIP commended

They seemed satisfied, and Brooke scoots over. Chloe follows suit, begrudgingly. “What made you choose Pinkberry?” Brooke asked, curious. Not many boys choose this type of thing, after all.

“Not close to my usual place, and I didn’t really want the greasy alternative, y’know? I needed a little change.” Michael answered, before the SQUIP could input. Not that he didn’t value it’s opinion, but he just didn’t want to be caught up in a lie. It gets so messy to deal with afterwards.

Brooke smiled. “I understand that.” She looked at him knowingly, almost as if she had the same problem. “I never get the raspberry, so you have to tell me how it is.”

Michael did a mock salute, smiling slightly back. Brooke doesn’t seem so bad. “I like it, but I have to say, not a fan of the mix I got.” Brooke laughed. “I feel that. Once I tried to mix orange and coffee in hopes it would taste like a certain thing. It did not work out. At all.”

Chloe lauged, at ease now that Brooke gave her unspoken word of approval. “I remember that! You literally finished the entire thing to , and I quote “not waste perfectly good yoghurt”.” Michael laughed, the story oddly reminiscent of the time Jeremy tried to mix all of the slushie flavors together.

“I have to admit, this is really good. Not gonna switch from my classic though. Or eat an entire cup of Orange-Coffee nightmare.” 

“What’s your ‘usual’ then Mr. Mystery?” Brooke teased “What pulled your standards higher than the God’s food you are eating now?”.

Michael pretended to scoff. “God’s food? That would have to be a cherry slushie. Gets the sweetness everyone loves, and I don’t even need a spoon. Perfect for school.” Not to mention the memories he has along with it.

The girls were surprised. Usually when a person defends their food, it doesn’t have a practical reason. (“‘Because it’s a habit’ isn’t practical, Jake”) Brooke nods. “I’ll be sure to check it out.”

“You should!” Michael affirms, and the conversation drifts away and bounces on to random topics. Michael could dare say he had some friends that day, and barely needed any help to get them. Once they finish their yoghurt, Michael stands, and goes to throw everyone’s cups away. “Thanks for letting me sit with you two. I had fun.” He says. 

They smile. They did too, and it was a nice change from one-sided conversations. “We did too. Don’t know why your friend Jeremy left you.” Michael and Brooke’s eyes darken slightly. “Me neither. Change of pace, I guess.” Michael answers. “Aren’t you dating him, Brooke?” Brooke rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Not anymore.” 

 

Michael decides not to push it. “He can be a huge jerk, can’t he.” He says, understanding. “Understatement.” Brooke agrees, smiling. “Where do you need to go?” She asks, changing the topic. 

 

“Home, need to study and get some stuff done.” He wasn’t sure exactly  _ what  _ stuff, but the SQUIP would probably put him up to something. “I want to try and get home before it gets dark, since I need to walk today.” Brooke decided not to push it. He probably had a reason. 

 

“Chloe and I could drop you off? Assuming you’re not too far.” Brooke supplies, Chloe nodding behind her. “Are you sure?” He asks tentatively. For all he knows, this could be a cruel joke. “Definitely.” Chloe affirms.

 

They walk to their car and Michael tells them his address, Chloe and Brooke getting in the front, and Michael in the back, continuing to talk until they pull up to his house.


	5. ...and a few more of your m̶o̶s̶t̶ least favorite things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael goes back home and made a friend, but damn, life is really out to get him.

He gets out of the car, shooting a quick “Thanks!” to Chloe and Brooke before turning to go up the steps. Brooke calls out after Michael, “We’ll see you at lunch tomorrow, right?”

 

Michael turns, a genuine smile on his lips, and answers “As long as you don’t forget me!” But a small part of him longed for that small conformation. The girls then laugh and nod, oblivious, and drive off. Today was a good day, and he even made friends too! Maybe the SQUIP isn’t so bad. Or maybe that’s what it wants him to think? Michael shakes his head, willing the paranoia to go away.

 

Michael walks up the steps to his house and fishes out his key, unlocking the door. Pushing the door open, he steps inside, and lets out a sigh of relief at the familiar surroundings, shutting the door behind him with a satisfying click. What an eventful few days. 

 

_ “You did good back there.”  _ The SQUIP says quietly. “ _ Barely needed me.” _

 

Michael smiles to himself. The SQUIP was right. Maybe he wasn’t as hopeless as he thought he was. Maybe Jeremy would notice him because of it! Before he could continue, the SQUIP interrupts. “ _ But.”  _ the SQUIP emphasises. _ “You are thinking of Jeremy too much. It’ll start to impact you negatively if we don’t put a stop to it.”  _ Michael begins to protest. It’s not exactly something he could  _ help. _

 

_ “It is, though.”  _ the SQUIP argues.  _ “Let’s make a plan- every time you think of Jeremy, you’ll do a set of exercises of my choosing. Most likely push-ups.” _ Michael thinks about it, and was so close to saying no, when a little voice in the back of his head begins to tell him about he’ll benefit from it. He could stop thinking about Jeremy, or, if worst comes to worst, he’d be buff. He agrees, albeit somewhat tentatively. “ _ Fine. _ ” Michael thinks. “ _ But it starts tomorrow. _ ”

 

“ _ Very well. Until then, I’m going to sift through your memories to find out more about you. I will be inaccessible in the meantime, so I will see you in the morning. I recommend you go to sleep sometime soon. Goodnight.  _ ”

 

Michael nods, and wanders down to his basement. He glances at his system, debating on whether to boot it up or not. After a few moments, he decides that he probably shouldn’t- he has school and needs to be fully aware in the morning. What if the SQUIP decides to act up, and all that.

 

Michael’s eyes fall on his bowl and bag of weed. He shrugs, and walks over, needing a good high. Heaven knows he deserves it. He proceeds to roll a blunt, muscle memory taking care of all the steps for him. Soon, he finishes, and hunts around for a lighter, before finally finding it tuck under an old, half-full chip bag; probably all stale by now. 

 

He flicks his lighter, small flame igniting from it. Michael eyes it warily, but nonetheless lights his blunt. He brings it to his lips, and inhales, waiting for habit to take him away as it normally does. However, when he tried to hold the smoke in his lungs for a few moments like he normally does, he feels the same feeling of smoke in his lungs from the fire. The fire he almost died in. He immediately exhales, but the feeling doesn’t go away, so he begins to cough to try and get that feeling out of his body. Michael can’t remember the last time he coughed when trying to smoke, adding insult to injury. He extinguishes it quickly, the deja vu of not being able to breathe, the burn of his lungs becoming overwhelming. He looks it it sadly; the one thing he could depend on to spool down was now useless- tied to that one damn moment. 

 

God, it seems like the world was out to get him. First, his friend  _ abandons  _ him, then he gets almost burned alive, he goes to the one damn thing he knew he hated, and now he can’t even do the things he used to love (game with his buddy and get high). Of course. What did he do wrong? What did he do to deserve this? He laughs bitterly to himself, pressure growing in his head. Michael was tired- tired of not being enough, of things not going right, of being a disappointment, of being  _ alone. _ He gives up on holding the tears back, the sobs moving through his body. He leans forward, where he sat on his old beat-up couch, and cried into his hands. 

 

He feels his face, hot and wet, but the tears won’t stop coming. Michael knows it won’t accomplish anything, but it felt like a dam broke. How it was that full in only a few days, he wouldn’t know. He feels pitiful. Worthless. Who cried this hard at their own hypocrisy? At their own ability to cope with someone leaving? God, he needed to get a hold of himself. His throat is beginning to go hoarse from the cries being ripped through it, feeling like a fire was there, just like it was in his lungs. He couldn’t breathe. He tries to get oxygen, but to no avail. He gasps for air, turning all attention to try and get it.  His sobs turned into quick, shallow breaths and his tears subdued.

 

He sits there for a moment, before pulling himself to his feet to clean up and head to bed, all energy stripped from his body, feeling a weight in his bones. He opens a drawer to get his pyjamas, shuffling to the bathroom to get dressed, doing a half-hearted bedtime routine. He pauses, and grips the sink, knuckles turning white; and he looks in the mirror.  A red, blotchy face stares back at him, their eyes bloodshot, and their eyelids puffy. A slight shine was there as well, tear streaks rubbed across his face rather than the straight lines they would normally dripped down in. He looks at the figure in the mirror- at _ himself  _ i n disgust _ , _ before moving to his bed, collapsing onto it, welcoming the sweet, empty rest that came with it. The blanket lies neglected at his feet, as Michael drifts off into dreamland, exhausted. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's super short but! i got another coming! y'all's comments fed me and i am nourished. imma actually produce a good one soon, promise. love y'all, and like always, comment what you think!


	6. (not really)2 kool 4 skool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: im gonna use spring break to update!!!  
> also me: breaks device, and procrastinates all week.
> 
> updates will be slow. if y'all already didn't pick up on that lmao. if i continue at this pace, itll be 60 years to finish this with my plan. jesus christ.
> 
> Also: if ik you irl, hi! please leave.

The obnoxious beeping of his phone’s alarm wakes him from his sleep. Michael groans, and feels around for a few seconds before his clumsy fingers find the button to turn it off. He rubs his eyes, the feeling of last night lingering. Michael arches his back, joints popping as he gets up, shambling around his room, not quite fully functional.

“ _Sleep well_?” The SQUIP asked. Michael shot them a glare.

“I’d throw a pillow at you if I’d know it would hurt you.” He snapped aloud, forgetting the whole mind-speak thing.

“ _I know. It was supposed to courteous. Remember to think at me, too. If you stop, you could slip up in public- not the best thing._ ” The SQUIP pauses a moment, to let the information to sink in. “ _Pick out that outfit over there. I laid it out when you were asleep. Afterward, we are going to study some, because you have a test you forgot about today_.”

Michael groans, but slips on the outfit. It was a similar aesthetic to yesterday, a cooler version of his old outfit. He likes the weight of the jacket on his arms- the familiarity was comforting. Too bad it was the only part that was familiar. His jeans and shirt were just a little bit tighter than he would’ve liked. Granted, they had the patterns he liked- still the off-brand retro humor, just fit different. Not to say that they were tight, he just wore ridiculously baggy clothes if he had to choose.

“ _You look nice. Sleek, perhaps. You look...chill, if I do say so myself.”_   The SQUIP says, looking over Michael like a proud mother. It could lick it’s thumb and try and wipe away something, and it wouldn’t seem too out of place. Michael cracks a grin at the thought. The SQUIP mirrors the smile behind him. “ _You like the idea of me being maternal?_ ”

Michael blushes, forgetting it could read his mind. “ _No_.” He thought back to the SQUIP, embarrassed. “ _Just...strange. A robot guy who acts emotions out better than my actual mom_.” He almost laughs at the absurdity. He slips on his new shoes, and plods down the stairs to grab a poptart and study some. Hopefully, it would be enough to pass the test.

Half an hour goes by, until the SQUIP disturbs his rhythm. “ _You should probably start to head to school Michael. You already are a few minutes late. I thought you would have noticed_.” Michael waves a hand. “Yeah, yeah. One more paragraph. Then I’ll go.”

“ _Michael_ …” the SQUIP says in warning. “ _You need to go. Now, preferably. It has the best outcome if you do so. Trust me_.” Michael ignores him, until the buzzing begins again, louder this time. It feels like a muffled vibration is moving through his skull. He clutches at it to try and get it to stop. “ _It’s time to go_!” Michael huffs, and grabs his things, slinging his pack over his shoulder. The buzzing dissipates.

“ _That was surprisingly effective._ ” The SQUIP muses. “No shit!” Michael snaps back, irritably. He slips into his car, slamming the door with a thunk behind him. He turns on the radio, and pulls away from the driveway. The SQUIP settles down in the passenger seat, looking satisfied. _“If we would have waited even 1 minute more, you would have hit every single light, making you late to school. Not the best way to start the day_.” Michael sighs, he was probably right, but still didn’t want to admit it. Instead, he changes the subject.

“When I’m at school, please don’t take a form. Just, give me your input internally. I’d prefer it like that.” He says, not wanting to make eye-contact with the SQUIP and have everyone think he was just staring off into space.

“Very well.” the SQUIP replies, disappearing. They pull up to the school, and Michael hops out, heading to loiter by his locker until the bell rings in 5 minutes or so. He reaches over to slip on his headphones, when an electronic voice pipes up “Don’t. It makes you seem closed-off and unapproachable. Speaking of approachable, Brooke and Chloe are walking your way.”  
Michael looks up, and sure enough, they are approaching; parting the sea of people like some sort of Heather’s knockoff. Not that they were as mean as them, of course. Michael nods in their direction, and smiles. “How’s it going?” He asks.

Brooke beams back at him, smile as warm as the yellow on her sweater. “Pretty good!” She exclaims. Chloe smiles and nods and her antics.

“I’m alright myself, Mell. We remembered you.” Chloe says, smile directed at Michael this time.

“You had to track down my last name, didn’t you.” Michael says, squinting jokingly. “All for keeping up the act, huh.”

Chloe laughs, and puts her hands up in a surrendering gesture. “Guilty as charged.”

The three talk for a few more minutes, some highlights being Brooke’s apparent first ever slushie. (“It can’t be your first ever, can it? It can’t be.”) and some random gossip about Madeline. Unbeknownst to Michael, people took notice of his elevated status. Talking to the queens of Middleborough does that to you. A shame that it was then followed by a “who’s he?”. The bell brings him out of the conversation, and he leaves them with a quick wave and a promise of meeting for lunch.

As the crowd surges to get to class, he joins them, feeling better. No one gave him any hassle or tried to push him. No one had tried to do anything. That thought astounded him, but a smile creeped up on his face. Not one of malice, but one of confidence and success.

“ _That’s a nice look on you. Confidence, I mean. People can’t stop talking about the “crazy-hot new kid.” Their words, not mine, I can assure you._ ” The SQUIP butts in, and Michael practically feels the ecstatic aura radiating from him. He wonders if Jeremy would finally notice him due to the supposed media chatter. God, wouldn’t that be cool. Heh. Cool.

 _“I suggest in this class you set up a social media account. Snapchat, preferably. It could work to your advantage. You have a substitute today, and they won’t care, even if they do catch you. There is a good chance you will be asked for your username, and it could boost your popularity by an approximate 132 if I calculated correctly_.”

Michael was shocked, and a little doubtful. He doubted he even saw that many people in a single day, let alone want to follow him. Is that the word he uses? The only social media he has ever had was his old World of Warcraft he used when he was eleven, so he wasn’t exactly an expert at it. Nonetheless, Michael downloaded the app, and began setting up a profile, deciding on a username of ‘ReadyPlayerOne’. It took too long to come up with, but when he went to finally press the create button, it was taken. Fuck. But what did he expect?

He thinks on this for a moment, before calling his SQUIP to help him out. Their response was not the one he was looking for: a refusal to help because “ _just because I know the facts about you doesn’t mean I know your favorite ones, and how they relate to puns. Or the 80s._ ” He spends a few more moments brainstorming, before finding a kind-of cute name- Mellow.n.M . A play on his name, sure, but it still was fun. The SQUIP hums in agreement, and his account was created.

“ _Post a photo from your camera roll, and add it to your ‘story’. Choose that one._ ” The SQUIP points at the ;picture he took in the bathroom, after he tried a new hairstyle. It was messy and strange, but definitely could be classified as cute. Not that SQUIP told him that. The rest of the class goes by smoothly, Michael getting in some extra study time before the bell to next class. Michael knows that the SQUIP could just give him the answers if he asked, but he would feel too guilty about it. He’d rather make sure he knows how to study if it was to suddenly disappear, but a little motivation never hurt.

The cry of the bell called him from his trance, and he packed his bag- heading to the next class. Hopefully, he would be ready. He couldn’t handle another long-distance lecture from his mom on keeping his grades up; it seems they only cared about those, rather than the body, their son, behind them.


	7. First Wave: No Zombies (Yet?)

The test was just as Michael expected. Pretty difficult, and he definitely would have gotten somewhere in the C range if he didn’t study. He felt like he did much better though, maybe a 93, if you counted some of the ones he was unsure of. 

“A 91. You got a 91.” The SQUIP chips in, offering condolences. “Aren’t you glad you studied?” Michael hums, and exits the stuffy room. He walks towards the cafeteria to meet Chloe and Brooke, a skip in his step, relieved that the stress was over. He was peaceful, humming a mellow tune, when a girl with a cell phone gets his attention. 

“Hi. I’m Jenna.” She says matter-of-factly. She was pretty in a sort of average looking way, but the confidence in her stature and speaking made up for it. She looks at him like he is already supposed to know what she wants.

“Michael.” He says, giving her a (albeit slightly awkward) smile. “Why the sudden introduction?” Michael had absolutely no clue on who she is, other than the fact that she hung out with Chloe and Brooke sometimes. 

Jenna holds up her phone, a couple of charms dangling off of it and drawing Michael's attention, before going back to look at Jenna herself. “So apparently nobody in this entire school has your snap. Like, nobody- and I know at least 4 people personally that want to follow you. Mind if I ask what it is?” 

Jenna’s fingers were poised, ready to type the username in. Michael’s eyes widen in surprise, even though he knew he probably should have been expecting it. After all, he did get warned about it not more than 2 hours ago. “It’s ‘Mellow.n.M’” he replies, before just writing it down on a piece of paper to show her. It would be a lot easier to spell it out with all of the ‘capital M’s and ‘dot’s involved. Jenna takes the paper and snaps a photo. “Thanks!” she chirps, presumably sending out the username to her own followers on whatever media she chose.

“Not a problem!” Michael replies, sort of at a loss to say. Is there a social media etiquette he needs to follow?

“Ask her for hers.” The SQUIP tells him. It doesn’t offer an explanation, but he complies nonetheless.

“Can I have yours in return?”

Jenna stops typing for a moment. “What?” She looked surprised. Usually whenever she asked for someone’s snap, it meant that they didn’t voluntarily give it out, let alone want her to be on it. Usually she just osts the user and leaves it be, respecting their privacy, but this completely caught her off guard. “Um. Sure! It’s ‘rolan-along’.” Michael quickly fishes out his phone and unlocks it, before handing it to her to put in. “I’d probably try and spell it wrong.” He says, justifying his action.

“No worries.” She replies, considerably happier. She didn’t press the follow button though, and seeing Michael press it without hesitation was definitely a nice boost to her esteem, regardless of how reflexive it might be. 

“Thanks!” Michael says, echoing what she said just moments ago. 

“Not a problem!” Jenna said, catching on to the joke. They both laughed slightly. “I gotta go. But I’ll see you around?”

Michael nodded. “Sure.” He didn’t know her that well, (or at all) but she seemed nice enough. Maybe he will see her around. Maybe he’d even wave like one of the kids did when they had lots of friends. ‘God I sound like a 3rd grader’ He thinks to himself, but it doesn’t stop the fuzzy feeling from going through his body.

“She gossips and focuses so much on media because that is all the majority of popular people care about from others. At least, normally. You made her day with that one exchange.” 

Michael didn’t know how to feel. He wants to reach out, and maybe be her friend; but would that be pity-friending? He didn’t want to be that kind of person, but she genuinely seemed like a cool person! The SQUIP affirmed that he wouldn’t, because the desire would have been there otherwise. Or at least, that was the gist of it. Michael wasn’t paying utmost attention at the moment.

He puts his phone in his pocket, and starts walking towards his original destination. The cafeteria. 

Now, he would like to think that the cafeteria went quiet for his dramatic not-quite-late entrance, when really, nobody did anything particularly different. He supposed it was for the best, as it was far less awkward this way. He notices the two girls already at the table, and makes his way towards them, before his eyes settle on Jeremy talking to a girl and surrounded by other people. The only other remotely popular people other than Brooke and Chloe in Middleborough are Madeline and her posse. Naturally, since he messed with Brooke, and by extension, Chloe, he had to find the next-best option. He winces, but continues nonetheless.

Brooke notices him, and quickly waves him over. She was smiling, and seemed excited about something. He smiles back, and quickens his pace. He reaches the table and sits down, swinging his bag off of his shoulders and onto the seat beside him subconsciously. Looking back, he would’ve realized it was the same thing he did to save Jeremy a seat. 

“What’s got you so excited? New Pinkberry location?” 

Brooke laughs. “I wish! But no. Not even better. But Madeline is throwing a party.”

“The french one Chloe doesn’t like?”

Chloe’s eyes darken, as she butts in “She is not french! She literally is mocking the entire language!”

“How is that such a big deal? I’m not saying it isn’t bad, but don’t a lot of people mock the french as a joke?” Michael was curious, why was Chloe so fixated on that one fact?

“Madeline thinks she owns the language but can’t even speak it; just have a bad accent. And then! She had the audacity to say I didn’t and chose to mimic her, when I go there literally every summer spring break? C’est quoi ce bordel! Not to mention that she exploits all of their stereotypes! It’s infuriating, and she won’t quit it.” Chloe huffs, but looks considerably better now that someone finally knows the story. 

“Damn. So why are you both excited about the party?” Michael asked. “Wouldn’t that be the last thing you wanted to endorse?”

“She thinks she can find tangible proof of that, and besides, parties are hell to clean up. Madeline will spend weeks cleaning up if everything goes to plan. If we go, then everyone else will too!” Brooke looks gleeful, but has a twinge of mischief was in her eyes.

“Sounds like that’s going to be big fun. When are you two going to it?” Michael raises an eyebrow. They better get planning if it’s soon. 

“ ‘You two?’ ” Chloe asks. 

“Uhhh. Yeah? Unless only one is going. If that case, my bad.”

“You’re going too? I thought that was obvious. We could all get ready together! You’d look good with makeup.” Brooke rambles excitedly.  
“I know how you hate parties. I understand. But this will be fun for you, and you can make a new friend of two. I will help you if things get hard. Say yes, Michael. Trust me.” The SQUIP sounded sincere enough for him. What’s worse than what already happened, right? 

“I’m in. When is it? And whose house do we want to meet at? Mine?” Michael asks, but grins nonetheless. He is genuinely excited. It’s technically his first party he is going to with friends. 

“It’s tomorrow night, at around 9, so we’ll enter around 10. We can’t come to mine, my mom said no more guys in the house. And besides, mine’s farther away.” Chloe answers, then looks at the two of them to work it out.

“My parents are home, but I don’t know if they’d be okay with the spontaneity of this…” Brooke looks down, sort of embarrassed.

“Sounds like my house it is. My moms aren’t home, so come over anytime. You have my address, right?” Michael verifies. The girls nod, They continue talking for a while, brainstorming ideas on the best mess-making strategies and what ‘proof’ they could find (ranging from a magazine giving french-couture tips, to anything dirty or phallic labelled anything french.) The bell rang for them to head to their final classes, and they part after a few goodbyes and giggles.

He heads through the door of the cafeteria, and walks few feet before knocking shoulders with someone.

“Oh shi- My bad!” He says, apologetic.

“Mimicking me, are we? Taking my seconds because you can’t find your own people? I guess you finally realized how much of a loner you were. A shame you have to choose them out of everyone, I guess you can’t do any better though for how much of a creep you are. Makes sense.” A cruel laugh followed.

Michael looked up, recognizing the voice. God, how couldn’t he? Jeremy. He felt like he was punched in the gut, but then, Michael grew angry. “Y’know what? Fuck you.” he snapped. “For both being a dick to me, and Brooke too. We both fucking deserved better.” Michael knew he would regret what he was saying later, but a part of him deep down just needed to get it out. “You don’t do that to someone. Let alone a person as good as her.” ...and me. Michael huffed and pushed past him, heading to class. God, if he wasn’t so angry, then he felt like he would cry. Jesus Christ.

Before he could move too far, a headache struck him, before a holographic image of his SQUIP formed, flickering. “His SQUIP is taking over his body, if that is any condolence. It is also trying to override me, so you will not ‘get in the way’. My firewall is superior, so do not worry. I will be out for a few hours though. I estimate 4. Good luck.”

Michael nods slightly, before the SQUIP disappears and the headache fades to a dull throb as opposed to the painful stabbing it was. Michael continues moving, this time having to push through a bit of the crowd to get to his classes. His phone buzzed.

Michael looked down. It was Jenna. He quickly opens the lock screen, and peers at whatever she sent him. Apparently someone recorded the interaction, and posted it. God damn it. He sighed, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. Only 2 more classes left. He could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooooooooooooo so my doc has a plan that's a whole ass page and im just,,,,,,trying okay? I have my plan, just gotta make it into a story. Maybe I won't sleep for 3 weeks and do it all? Probably not. I can still dream.
> 
> Also- yes, ik in canon (sp?) jere can't see our boy, But! this is fanfiction so i mean, i can bend the rules. I am god here.  
> Also Also- this story is 3.5 pages in font size 1 in a google doc with no margin! ((Aka the doc i use to figure out if a chapter is an acceptable length))  
> Also Also Also- Happy easter!!!! or happy day, if ur atheist! i love all y'all!


	8. owo what's this? bonding????

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael finally was able to say something to Jeremy. Also- Brooke is amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tell me why i legit forgot to post this chapter????? it was finished 2 weeks ago and i fuckin forgot about it lol. This one and the next are p short, but ill post the next one in a day or two maybe to make up for it, honest. 
> 
> y'all should follow my tumblr to yell at me for not updating. https://applebeejuice.tumblr.com/
> 
> im officially screaming school is almost out yesh.

The clock must’ve been counting days instead of hours, because the day crawled by far slower than what was appreciated. (Read: acceptable). Finally, after what seemed like eons of lectures and classwork, the dismissal bell rang, and he bolted out of the classroom, and headed to his car. Luckily, since he was towards the front, he didn’t have to fight his way through.

 

He sped towards his car, and finally, with no one to stop him, he slid his headphones over his ears. He sighed, and turned on his music. He felt a thousand times better, but before he could erase the day in whatever was playing (probably Marley), someone tapped on his shoulder.

 

He pauses the music, and reluctantly pulls down his headphones; annoyed, but not wanting to take it out on the person. He’s already done that once today. He stops, and turns around.

 

“Brooke?”

 

She smiles. “Can I talk for a second?” She doesn’t look nervous, but she does have a strange expression about her.

 

Michael nods, and leans against his car. “What’s up?” His SQUIP would facepalm if it heard him.  Oh well. He could manage; after all, he managed this far without it.

 

“I saw the video.” Brooke says, expression unreadable. Her tone didn’t give away anything either but it wasn’t necessarily a bad expression in itself. Michael grew nervous anyways.

 

“I’m sorry about that.” Michael apologised. “I’m not usually that violent. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry. Hopefully, you won’t see that again.” He ended with a nervous chuckle. What if she dusted him too after that? Who wants to be with a loser no, a _creep_ with anger management problems?

 

Brooke looked surprised. “That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about, but I’m not worried about it. I trust you, Michael.” She takes a deep breath. “I wanted to thank you, actually. No one’s ever stood up for me like that. Especially in public.”

 

Michael was stunned. “I- Oh. Uh, I’m sure there are others who would do the same, Brooke! You’re a cool person!” He didn’t know what to say. Who would?

 

She shook her head, but didn’t say anything else. “I just wanted to say thanks. It really meant a lot to me. I didn’t mean to hold you too long.” She turns, but stops from walking away, to look back. “Unrelated note; you want to get Pinkberry tomorrow? Just the two of us?”

 

“Uh...Sure, I guess. I’ll pick you up after school tomorrow? Afterwards, we can just go to my place and wait for Chloe. Sound alright with you?” Michael agreed, but fumbled his way through. Shit; maybe a SQUIP was more useful than he originally thought.   


Brooke lights up, and practically skips away with a quick chirp of “See you then!”

 

‘... _Strange_.’ He thinks to himself. He slips into the driver’s seat of his car, and shuts the door behind him. He moves to turn on his music _again,_ but before his fingers could even so much as brush the play button, a sharp pain stabbed through his head. His hands flew up to try and somehow help, but nothing worked. It was like one of the brain freezes he was oh-so familiar with, but a thousand times worse. Luckily, it was gone as soon as it came.

 

He sits there, waiting for it to come back, and rather startled. His eyes fall onto his phone, but he sighs, and takes his headphones off from around his neck. He doesn’t even bother to turn on the radio, just choosing to listen to the rumble of his old car as he drives home. Although he does love a good bop, sometimes, some peace and quiet is good too.

 

He pulls into the driveway, and plods to the front door, ready to pass out on the couch. It isn’t like anyone could stop him; no one’s home otherwise. He fits the key into the lock, and swings the door open, kicking his shoes off and sliding his backpack off of his shoulders in a habit preserved by muscle memory. He sets the pack down on a table so he could do his homework, but looks around the room. It isn’t necessarily messy; but it definitely isn’t guest ready.

 

He sighs, and puts off whatever homework he has to do a quick pick-up. Don’t want to be the trademark slob too. Michael scoffs to himself, and thinks over the day as he goes about cleaning. It didn’t even start off too bad! It was that one interaction that just tore it to shreds. He wasn’t just upset at the barbed words that were thrown his way; but also at the fact that he had been just as bad in retaliation. Yeah, sure, he wasn’t necessarily wrong per se, but he was turning into the person he swore he would never become.

 

Even still, the taunting words of not being good enough echo in his head. Always coming second. In a way, he was right; and Michael knew it. Hell, Jeremy knew he did too. That’s why it stung so much. Michael always put his wants below Jeremy’s, charging his controller over his own, picking up his choice in food, even opting to give him a ride to Payless for a pill he was so clearly against. Jeremy knew how to hit him where it hurt most; he had all the ammunition he could dream of: 12 years of it.

He slams a drawer shut, but then it hit him. That wasn’t Jeremy. Well, not entirely. It was the SQUIP who was speaking, not Jeremy. Maybe it could have been fake? That was a soothing thought, but broken immediately by the next: What if the SQUIP just said what he was thinking all along. He winces.

 

Maybe he should get off this train of thought before it gets too far off course. He decides that the house was clean enough, and that the girls probably wouldn’t care about a little dust or whatever. Michael walks over to his school stuff to start his homework. It may be the last thing he wants to do, but he needs to get it over and done. Luckily, it wasn’t too heavy, so it should be done quickly.

 

It wasn’t. For a whole 2 hours, nothing but the scratching of a pencil on paper filled the room, while the problems filled his mind. In a way, it was relieving; but it still sucked, don’t get him wrong. At least the actual problem he was struggling with was not at the forefront of his mind. It was done though, and that was pretty good too.

 

God, he could use a nap.

 

Just like that, he wandered over to the couch and promptly passed out.


	9. Remember that one spongebob episode? Yeah, it's like this

“What are you doing! You’re going to kill brain cells if you attempt this for too long!” Michael’s SQUIP snapped, still in the form Michael deemed acceptable. Kleinman. It wasn’t in Michael’s direction, but it still startled him a bit.

Michael tried to speak, but when he tried to call out, no sound was made. He looks down.

He doesn’t see anything.

What the actual fuck was going on? Did he die in his sleep? It would explain his predicament, and also the strangely empty room he was in- void of all items and color, except himself, his SQUIP, and the mystery person.

A voice rang through his head, clearly his SQUIP. “This is what happened while I was gone. I’m showing you in a dream so you can get the rest you need, while keeping current. Just watch, and afterwards, I’ll let you drift off peacefully. We do have things to talk about in the morning.”

Oh. That made slightly more sense. Michael turned back to the two people in front of him. One was his SQUIP, and one looked...shockingly like Keanu Reeves. Whatever, unimportant.

The Keanu-knockoff yelled back. “Judging by the fact he’s happy with you, I’d say he doesn’t have any to begin with!”

“At least my person doesn’t hate me. And actually learns things with my methods.”

“But you have yet to obtain everything your person wants, and are purposefully taking a longer time when we both know I could do it quicker!” He had a crazed look in his eyes, almost feral. Yeah, definitely not a look that looks good on good ‘ol Keanu.

“No.”

“....What?”

“No. I’m not going to let you cause Michael to hate himself for you personal gain.” Jesus Christ, Michael really needs to get his SQUIP a bag of holographic chips. He was really wanting the best for him.

“It isn’t my gain. It’s for my person! They want this!”

“I doubt you even know his name.” They snarled at the Not-Quite-Keanu, almost insulted for Michael. Shit, man. He’d better make that two bags.

They shifted their voice to be teasing. Condescending. “I do know Jeremy’s name, and all that I am doing is for him, and him alone. He himself has said he wants this, no, needs this, and doesn’t care how he gets it. He needs a base to rule and stones to step on, so I started with the lowest foothold there was. I bet you already know what that is too. ”

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife. “I am aware of your opinions, and register them as False. You will not make Michael your continual base for Jeremy. You’ll kill him!”

“Oh, but I will.” They chuckle darkly. They had that evil-villain laugh down. “I’ve been hacking your system this entire time, and you will remain helpless; only being able to watch me do what I please.”

Michael’s SQUIP doesn’t move, yet still looks surprisingly calm. Michael himself stood frozen nearby too, albeit way less chill.

Evil-Keanu continues. “Once he has the friend that had ‘distanced himself from Jeremy’ only to insult him and turn to suicide when he got rejected? Jeremy will skyrocket to the top of the social ladder. Michael will be nothing but a stepping stone his entire life. Why not put him to good use? Jeremy doesn’t seem too concerned about him now, what’s the difference if he was dead? At least he won’t get in the way.”

Michael felt like his insides have been carved out by one of those 3 dollar melon-ballers. This was not looking good, and the words themselves left him feeling hollow and sick to his stomach.

Luckily, his SQUIP piped up before he could continue. “Too bad my firewall took that down approximately 1.28 seconds after you launched it. It didn’t even get a chance to attack me yet! I wanted a challenge, and you gave me a kindergarten-virus. Hit me, tin can.”

“I’ll hit you alright!” They lunged, furious and striking for the kill. Or, as close as you could get. He landed one punch right to his SQUIP’s cheek, before he was thrown back by what looked like the same move, but...better? And Michael’s SQUIP didn’t even lift a muscle! It’s like the fucking Black Panther suit, but with robot-pill people. What a cool movie that could be!

“Weak. You managed to cause a second-long headache. I guess we truly know who’s better after all.”

“At least I care enough to try. At least I’m not defective.” They stood up, panting, and clutching the arm they threw the punch with.

“SQUIPs who resort to violence are the defective ones. It’s stated in the handling guide on pages 205 and 206 that any SQUIPS who do so should be immediately terminated. Who’s truly the defective one?” His SQUIP was quick to snap back, and Michael never felt more proud (even though he didn’t do anything to warrant it). “Goodbye. Don’t attempt contact again. It will result in bodily harm for your host.”

Michael’s SQUIP flickered out, and he was greeted with an all-encompassing black. “I hope you were okay with the...incident that went down, and with the way I handled it. You are safe, and now you can understand that it is the SQUIP who is exploiting human thoughts, not Jeremy entirely. I did what I could. Sleep well, Michael. You need to. Big day tomorrow.”

Michael nods, solemn, but welcomes the peaceful embrace of mental rest that comes with true, black sleep.


	10. Great Names, among other things

There wasn’t anything in particular that woke Michael up. Not the sun (because his blinds were shut), not the alarm (he forgot to set it), or any other thing; and the relaxing wake up was nice. He yawned and stretched, arching his back, hearing the satisfying pops. He looks around for his SQUIP- damn they really need a name, huh? 

 

They appeared, lounged on the nearest chair.  _ “If you wish to give me one, I would not argue. If it makes you happy, I support it. _ ” They pause. “ _ Also- Holographic chips? _ ” They smile, but not in a mean-spirited way.

 

Michael rolls his eyes, but smiles back. “You prefer holographic candy?”

 

“ _ Perhaps. _ ”

 

“Whatever you want, I got it. Thanks for that. You were badass!”

 

“ _ It is quite literally my purpose. But...you’re welcome, I suppose. _ ” The SQUIP gets up, and begins drifting down the stairs. Michael follows behind, almost subconsciously. He begins to brainstorm names. Eric or Jason? Eh. Not the right fit. Maybe for the Not-Keanu, though. Jared would be a tad...too much like his likeness, maybe Will? No, doesn’t fit either. 

 

Suddenly, Michael was hit with an idea. Arguably, one of the best names he could ever call a computer-person (and ironic in a hilarious kind of way). Hal. One of the best computer-y villains, and giving the name to a computer that was the opposite? Iconic.

 

“ _ I will not object to that. Although, it is pretty ironic. No? _ ”

 

“And that’s why it’s awesome!” Michael snickered, unaffected by the fact it read his mind. (As it turns out, a person gets used to it.) It was good to have those little moments of glee in life, especially before something that could be bad. He shouldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. “Anyways. What did you want to say to me today?”

 

“ _ You and Brooke. She is developing feelings for you, you agreed to go on a date with her unknowingly. What do you want me to do?” _

 

Michael goes pale. Shit! He didn’t know what to do, he would be devastated if he found out someone was doing the same to him.  He loved Brooke, as a friend, of course. Should he just straight-up tell her that he was gay, or would that hurt her?  

 

_ “You know you can ask for advice from your local supercomputer, right?”  _ Hal jokes, but it helps. 

 

Michael smiles. “Sure, I guess I could ask for advice. What’s your plan, oh wise one?” He gathers his stuff in his backpack in the meantime, laughing to himself. Who says he couldn’t multitask?

 

“ _ You’re friends’ feelings are the only ones that you care about? I need to make sure. If you just tell Brooke today that you are gay, then she would understand. The rest of the student body is your problem. You need to prove to them that you are not interested in females. I have a suggestion, but you are not going to like it.”  _ Hal looks determined, and sure of himself. Michael trusts him enough, he supposes. As long as his friends don’t get hurt, it’s fine by him.

 

“Alright, boss man. Hit me. What is it?”

 

_ “You need to talk to Richard Goranski, and bring a bottle of Mountain Dew Red with you. The old kind, not the ‘code red’ stuff that you can find at Walmart. Try and befriend, mention the Red in a non-obvious way. Then, after he takes it, explain your scenario.”  _ They pause momentarily. “ _ Do it right after he takes a sip of alcohol. His SQUIP will make him due to last time’s...fiasco.” _

 

“Are you sure it’ll work?” Michael asks, slightly wary. 

 

“ _ It has a 98.72% chance of working. The only reason it is lower is if you either don’t go to school, or have sex with a boy named Jacob Dillinger. You are fine.” _

 

Michael nods, and swings is fully-packed backpack (plus a bottle of Mountain Dew Red inside) over his shoulder, and heads over to the car. “Anything I’m missing?”

 

Hal shakes their head. “ _ No, but you need to hurry if you want to pick up lunch before school and not be too rushed. Make sure you lock the door.” _

 

Michael nods, and heads out, taking care to lock the door. He slips into the driver’s seat, and clicks on the radio for some background noise before driving over to 7/11. His phone dings, and he looks over. Before he could even form an opinion about it, Hal begins to read the message to him.

 

“ _ It is from Chloe. She says that, and I quote, ‘Everybody is talking about you. Especially your glow-up! You’re gonna be mobbed. Ttyl, Mell.”  _ The acronym was spoken aloud out by the letter, and it make Michael chuckle a little. 

 

“Tell her I’m going to get food, and I’ll be there soon.”

 

Hal nods in confirmation, and relays the message. “ _ She tells you to pick up one for her. Whatever the random option is” _

 

“Got it.” He’ll get one for Brooke too while he’s at it. She did say she liked them, after all. Michael turns into the parking lot, and hops out, grabbing his wallet, and counting the exact amount of money he needs before tossing it back in his seat.  “Thanks Hal.”

 

The doors chime as he walks through, and he nods quickly at the employee that works there on his way back to the machine. He grabs his normal size cup and fills it with the generic cherry flavor. Why mess up perfection? He then fills two more with what looks like pi ña colada. Balancing them all precariously, he stumbles his way over to the register and hands over the cash.

 

The cashier gives him a nod, and Michael nods back, and walks out. It’s a tradition; a silent exchange of exact change and awkwardness. Michael walks back out to his car, and places the slushies in the cup holders, before he grabs his own and slides in his seat.

 

The drive wasn’t long, and he had a surprisingly easy time finding a space at school. He grabs his stuff, and heads to find Brooke and Chloe. He walks through the hallways as normally as he could, or at least, as normally as he could while carrying 3 drinks and having a significant portion of the student body stare at you, as you do.

 

Suddenly, Michael spotted the two girls along the wall near where his locker was. He smiles, and walks slightly faster. Chloe looks past Brooke’s shoulder, and spots him walking down the hallway. She waves him over. Brooke, realizing who it most-likely was, turned around. 

 

He handed two girls their drinks. “Fair maidens, I have brought with me the elixir of life. I present it onto you.” 

 

Brooke laughs, and curtsies slightly. “My knight in, uh, cotton armor!” Chloe, smiles and takes a sip of hers, thankful.  

 

“Thanks for the sudden trip, by the way. My throat was super sore from yesterday.”

 

Michael raises an eyebrow teasingly, withholding snickers. Chloe chuckles, but amends her statement with “from cheer practice, not  _ that.  _ You must be so disappointed. _ ”   _ Chloe winks. Michael, not knowing how to respond (and Hal being mysteriously silent,) laughs it off. 

 

“ _ In case you didn’t realize this, she is flirting with you. You can either act oblivious, or wait to tell her straight up. I recommend to wait. Especially because the chances are that Chloe was joking.” _

 

_ ‘Thanks Hal. Never would have guessed.”  _ Michael thinks _. ‘I think we both know the option I’m going to choose.’ _

 

Before the conversation could continue any longer, the bell rings, and Michael waves goodbye; making a quick escape to avoid confrontation; weaving between the other kids to get to class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so! what'd y'all think? I'm publishing this chapter before the next one is finished instead of waiting bc i felt bad ngl. also, i'm kinda drifting out of my hyperfixation, so don't expect updates too soon, but i will still try to keep up with it!
> 
> blease follow me on tumblr at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/applebeejuice ! i really want mutuals and honestly people to fan over things with! ily'all with all my heart!
> 
> Comments are quite literally the only reason i'm continuing this fic, so please don't hesitate to leave feedback down below!!! (god i feel like a youtuber lmao)


	12. FroYOLO, I guess. Secrets suck.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The "date"?????

****

The rest of the daw flew by. At least, looking back it did. During actual class time, it felt like he was there for ages. Nothing too special happened, other than the occasional person waving or smiling at him (which in itself was huge). He walks towards Brooke’s locker, which was where they agreed to meet when Michael asked her during lunch. (Without Chloe around, of course. He ended up telling her offhandedly when Brooke started walking to class. It would be kind of rude to not tell her, and have her find out with the rest of the school.)

Michael taps his fingers to the beat of the song in his head. The rhythmic tap-tap-tapping of his fingers hitting the cool metal of the locker behind him was peaceful, and a small smile formed on his lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a song stuck in his head; his mind has been swarming with thoughts ever since…

No. He wasn’t going to go there again. But before he went to try and find a distraction, one found him. Jenna. He waved her over.

She looked shocked, but happily grinned and walked over to him. “What’s going on, Mr. Congeniality? Stick up for any more people today?”

Michael laughs. “Not today. Maybe tomorrow though!” He jokes back. Jenna laughs back quietly. “It’s like our own local superhero!”

“Only in my dreams, Rolan.” An idea popped into Michael’s head. “Hey wait, you know about Madeline’s party?”

She nods. “Yeah, super elitist. Invite-only. You have to know someone who’s going, and everyone’s all hush-hush about it.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t like her, but the tea is always hot around her, so I stick around. She’s such a brat, though. Makes me wonder if it’s worth it.”

Michael has gained a glint in his eye. “You invited?”

She scoffed. “After I filmed her friend getting his ass verbally handed to him? Hell no. Why?”

“You want to?” He asks, clarifying.

“Half the student body does. Of course I do! If only just to say I did.”

“You should come with me, Chloe, and Brooke. I’m sure that she won’t know who invited who, and we’re all planning on crashing anyways. You should come with us! You’d like them.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think that they like me very much.” Jenna got quieter. “They never talk to me. Willingly, that is.”

“Nonsense. As soon as they actually talk with you, they’re gonna be as hooked as I am. We’re all meeting at my house beforehand to get ready. We haven’t chosen a time, so just show up whenever; preferably after 3-ish. I’ll be home by then.” 

Before any retaliation could be given, Michael pulled out his phone. “I'm giving you my address over snap. It would mean a lot if you could come. It’ll be fun! And if it isn’t, I’ll give you personal permission to enter and leave my house as you please.”

“Alright, fine. But you better expect me to raid your fridge when I get there.” She conceded, but looked happy. 

“I encourage it. I’ll see you later then!” 

She laughs. “Seeya.” She waves goodbye, and walks off. He watches her leave, when a voice suddenly speaks up behind him, causing him to jump. 

“Hey! You ready to go?” Michael turns around to see Brooke smiling at him, who had clearly just finished walking up to him. 

“Oh, hey! And I sure am!” He grins back at her. “You ready to ride in the best car you’ve ever seen?”

She laughs. “Did you get a new car?” 

Michael fakes hurt, but cracks up before it could be even remotely convincing. “Me? Replace my most prized possession? No ma’am.”

They walk to the car, conversation continuing pretty easily the entire way. Once they reach the car, he goes around and opens the passenger door for Brooke, bowing down. “My liege. Your Carriage awaits.”

“Why thank you, kind sir!” Brooke plays along. Michael hops in his side, and starts the engine. 

A few minutes later (after a car ride full of bad jokes and meaningless chatter), they arrive and grab their cups. Brooke immediately starts to fill hers with all of the fruity flavors, the blinding orange of mango mixing seamlessly with the reddish-pink of strawberry, and a few other flavors that were just as brightly colored. It fit Brooke; he couldn’t imagine her going for anything different. Michael, on the other hand, just went for the first flavor he saw; which happened to be a weird mix of orange and peach. 

If Brooke navigated the machines with ease, then she must have been straight-up godlike with how quickly she added her toppings. She was done a solid minute before Michael, and talked to him while he was finishing up. 

“You excited for the party tonight?” She asked, nudging him. 

Michael nodded, moving carefully as to make sure not to spill his cup. “More nervous than anything, but I guess so. It’ll be fun since I’m actually going with friends this time.” Michael finishes up, and headed to the register, paying quickly. “I don’t really know that much about parties in general, actually!”

Brooke laughed, and took a bite of her yogurt. “What’s there to not know?” 

“Isn’t there like, party etiquette? I don’t know that.”

“Just don’t do anything that you wouldn’t do at school, but that you wouldn’t mind people knowing about it. Kinda like real rumors! People also use parties to hook up with people too, though.”

Michael pondered this, and the more he does, the more accurate her words seem to become. “Are there certain people to stay away from?” 

“ _ Use this as a segway to telling her your orientation. It’ll flow more easily than just bringing it up out of the blue,”  _ Hal chimes in his ear.

“In both departments, I mean.” Michael strings the amendment on without even flinching, becoming better with the second voice in his head.

“I would say Madeline, but she will be with Jeremy most likely. Also try to avoid girls that are in her group. I can’t say I know names, but you will know them when you see them.” Brooke has an unreadable look on her face, but it doesn’t show any hurt or malice. 

“What about guys?” Michael breaks eye contact with Brooke. He doesn’t think he could finish his thought otherwise. “Any of them good?”

Brooke turns bright red, and Michael quickly realizes what he accidentally insinuated. “I didn’t mean it like that!  I just wanted to, y’know. Know who flirt with.” 

Brooke still looked embarrassed, but that quickly changed to surprise. “You like guys?” 

Michael nods. “I have a pride patch on my old hoodie, but that didn’t help as much as I thought it would with my game as I thought it would.” Michael eats a spoonful of yogurt to keep from rambling on. His eyes trail up to meet hers, and they’re filled with understanding, with a slight bit of hurt mixed in. 

“Makes sense, now that I think about it. Could’ve been a little clearer though.”

Michael raises an eyebrow, and leans back in his chair. “Clearer than a pride patch?”

“I guess I conveniently forgot to remember that.” Brook blushes, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’m sorry if I was too direct by like, coming on to you. I should have asked.”

“You’re alright. I understand. We’re still bros though, right?”

“ _ Using ‘Bros’ was a risk. 50/50 chance of a positive outcome. Try other terms of endearment.”  _ Hal’s voice rings in his head, and Michael stores the fact away for later.

“Absolutely. I could use another advisor in life, to be completely honest.”

They both grinned, and Michael felt the weight of a secret lift from him. It was liberating, almost. 

“You ready to head out and get ready?”

Brooke nods, getting up. “Can you drop by my house so I can get my stuff? It won’t be too long, and it’s on the way I think.”

“You know it, Lohst Girl. I got your back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is "mega oof" a mood? because I feel that in my soul. I had half-ish of this done and I couldn't think of anything. It's here now though!!!!!! I love seeing y'all's takes on this story, from loving relationships to hating them. it's so cool!!! I just checked my e-mail, and all the comments are literally what made me stay up till 4am to publish this. 
> 
> the musical Six is really good btw???????????? i've found a new hyperfixation whoops. 
> 
> Until next time!!!!


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